Katerina Flint‐Nicol, The University of Kent 'And all the Mods came out for the best band in the fucking world' About the Young Idea. Narrating and Experiencing The Jam at Somerset House Curated by Nikki Weller, Tory Turk and Russell Reader, The Jam Exhibition, About The Young Idea opened at Somerset House on 26th June 2015; its launch coinciding with Paul Weller supporting The Who at Hyde Park and at Glastonbury. Described by Nikki Weller as 'a walkthrough of their [The Jam's] albums from In The City to The Gift', the exhibition draws upon the band's memorabilia and personal effects, as well as fans' collections and unearthed and unseen material, photographs, films and cuttings kept by John Weller. Opening and closing with live footage and still photographs of the band playing live at the height of their fame and the end of their career, the exhibition layout is structured to encourage visitors to experience and relive The Jam through the linear history of the band's albums. Rooms that take their design cue from the album's artworks, display rare live footage, photos and writings that reveal the adolescent dreams of Paul Weller as well as interviews and personal memories that acknowledge John Weller's pivotal role in The Jam's success. With more than a few nods to the band's suburban beginnings in Woking, About The Young Idea is indeed focused on how the young idea realised their dreams and became the most celebrated band in Britain during the late 1970's and early 1980's, achieving critical acclaim and mustering a loyal fan base that is still in existence, and of vital importance to the band and understanding The Jam's impact and longevity, in the present day. Reflecting upon the shift of exhibitions away from grand narratives and towards a cultural and micro‐history approach that privileges and contextualises personal memories, experiences and emotions, and whilst drawing upon the textuality methodology, this paper seeks to explore the exhibition along the following main threads. Firstly, how the role of the clash between high art and low art in turning The Jam into an exhibition to be consumed establishes (whilst reaffirming to some) The Jam's critical importance and status in not only the history of British popular music, but also in the history of the nation's popular cultural landscape. Rather than gentrifying their legacy and transforming the band into a national treasure by enveloping Weller, Foxton and Buckler in aspic, the exhibition refreshes The Jam's cultural value and significance of adolescent rebellion, youthful hope and subcultural otherness. Secondly, in a time before an entrenched globalisation, The Jam existed in a more provincial landscape. Part of The Jam's legacy and reputation is the band's relationship with its fans, or rather the fans' relationship with the band, and the impact of the suburban beginnings on the make‐up of The Jam. With a focus on personal effects and memories, I would like to explore the appropriateness of the form in exploring the band's homespun legacy and how the exhibition affirms how the lack of global (mainly American mainstream) appeal and success was pivotal in securing The Jam's longevity. Furthering the role of memory and the personal in analysing the value of the exhibition, this paper aims to consider the role and importance of "remembering" and the cathartic process in experiencing The Jam. In several interviews, Nikki Weller recalled how she and her mother came across many exhibited objects while searching through John Weller's belongings. With the inclusion of interviews recalling, and a display on John Weller, the exhibition functions not only as a cathartic 4 event for those involved in the daily life of The Jam, but also for fans. The debate on whether The Jam will ever "get back together" has rumbled on since the band's end in 1982. With no sight of reformation, the exhibition functions on one level as a type of "wake". It enables fans to experience and celebrate The Jam "one last time" in lieu of any live performances and for fans to remember, to reminisce and to relive their relationship with, and what The Jam means to them. The exhibition also serves as a display of cultural memory. It explores the relationship between the personal experience and the wider social and cultural memory of a nation, offering personal accounts as representative experiences of growing up in 1970's Britain. It contextualises The Jam within the wider social and cultural discourses of the 1970's and allows exploration into representations of the working class, especially working class masculinities, life on council estates, subcultures and fandom. In so doing, this paper proposes that the narrative of the exhibition confirms accepted notions of yesteryear working class representations, whilst objecting to the contemporary representations of working class communities and the geographies these communities inhabit. The exhibition narrative also challenges the contemporary narratives and depictions of the 1970's that have been influenced and blighted by the Jimmy Savile scandal and paedophilia. Biography I am currently a PhD candidate in Film at The University of Kent, where I also achieved a BA and MA in Film Studies. My thesis is, 'Hoodie Horrors. The representation and construction of abject states in contemporary British horror films.' Part of my research covers representations of British working class masculinities in popular cultural art forms which is one reason how I've come to submit a paper for this symposium. The other is probably common to others submitting, in that I've been a fan of Paul Weller since my teenage years! 5 Abigail Gardner, University of Gloucester. All Mod Cons: Paul Weller’s successful ageing Over the last weekend in June 2015, Paul Weller appeared in two different Somersets. On Friday the 26th ‘The Jam: About the Young Idea’ opened at London’s Somerset House; this was an exhibition of archive material about the band that Weller lead, curated by his sister, fans and music archivists. On the Sunday he played the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury festival before The Who. His set list spanned four decades, from ‘That’s Entertainment’ (1981) to the most recent single release from Saturn’s Ring (2015). These two events, the exhibition and the performance, mark out different ways of ageing that are not always easy to distinguish from each other; in the first, age is positioned as a repository, in the second, it is an embodied lived experience. Weller successfully negotiates any tensions between these two possibilities, where cultural expectations of ageing are largely dominated by the former (Grenier, 2014; Jennings and Gardner, 2012). He does this though his juxtapostioning of the past and present, and through his gendered negotiation of specific popular cultural stereotypes. Weller’s ageing present is haunted by a youthful past that in turn, is imbricated with periods in British youth culture of progressive politics and rebellion. He is the ‘Angry Young Man’ however old he gets, and at 53, his ageing is inflected both by his own past and by the broader cultural movements that he is contextually bound up in, specifically two English subcultures, mod and punk. He functions as a reminder of past progressive politics; on YouTube, The Jam are described as’ mod revivalist/punk’, clearly heralding a band whose music looks back to the 1960s but is also versed in the pared down confrontational rhetoric of punk and its anti‐racist and anti‐sexist politics. Through these ongoing alliances, whereby Weller acts as a ‘memory prop’ (Pentzhold, 2009), he manages to retain this sense of youthfulness, which is exemplified by his industry presence as an ongoing creative force (see Baxter‐Moore, 2006) and his refutation of nostalgia, despite claims of the problematically nostalgia‐drenched nature of his music (Reynolds in Zuberi, 2001:66). The juxtaposition of the ‘now’ and the ‘then’ is afforded by Weller’s status as a palimpsest, whose performances are mapped over with pasts that are not fully erased. On stage, his performance style consists of the same moves as 1979, his gestures and movements, his guitar playing and facial expressions (Frith, 1996) have not ‘aged’ as his body has. And so, in performance, the younger Weller haunts a visibly ageing body through the bodily ‘ticks’ that remain (Fisher, 2001). Weller is also known through popular media discourse as ‘The Modfather’ (Hawkins, 2009). This positions him as an established patriarch and, by extension, through reference to The Godfather (Coppolla, 1972), somehow allied to a mob (as well as mod) culture, which he has since come to signify. This clearly indicates his status within the British popular music industry and also underscores how Weller’s successful ageing is semantically underscored by an iconic, conservative (and potentially aggressive or violent) masculinity. Unlike women in rock, his stature, heritage and lineage are prioritized and when his ‘looks’ are referred to, it is in the tradition of the ‘dandy’ (Hawkins, 2001) where the emphasis is on his ongoing immaculate taste in hairstyle and dress. 6 The ageing Weller is both a problematic and utopian figure; he is the aspirational white working class Englishman, able to travel across boundaries of space and time, from the urban, through the rural and beyond. He starts off In the City (1977), rambles around the Wild Wood (1993) and goes extra‐ terrestrial in Saturn’s Rings, (2015). He is the musical equivalent of a David Hockney or an Alan Bennett, a white English creative whose rise to artistic credibility relies very much on the rhetoric of the successful transcendence of class. However, some debates have considered this element of The Jam and Weller to be illustrative of a selective historicization of Englishness in relation to popular culture that erases Blackness (Zuberi, 2001) and certainly the reification of ‘Mod’ is commensurate with this (although it ignores Weller’s flirtation with soul during his Style Council phase in the mid 1980s). From Stanley Road in Woking where he grew up, to Somerset House where he is exhibited, Weller is positioned as part of a tradition of white English masculinity that doesn’t ‘die before it gets old’. On the contrary, it ages successfully by corralling a utopian and selectively historicized version of Englishness. Weller may sing that he is a ‘changing man/Built on shifting sand’ (‘Thechangingman’, Stanley Road, 2005), but his success is in anchoring himself in particular discourses of Englishness and masculinity to maintain youthfulness in an ageing body. Biography Dr. Abigail Gardner is Principal Lecturer in Popular Music at The University of Gloucestershire. Publications include PJ Harvey and Music Video Performance (2015) Farnham: Ashgate; ‘En’shrine’d – ushering Fela Kuti into the western ‘rock’ canon’ in LeBrun, B., and Strong, C. [eds] (2015) Death and the Rock Star, Farnham: Ashgate; Jennings, R., and Gardner, A. (2012) Rock On: Women, Ageing and Popular Music, Farnham: Ashgate; Gardner, A., and Jennings, J. (forthcoming 2017) Aging and Popular Music in Europe, New York: Routledge and ‘PJ Harvey and Remembering England’ in Lee Brooks, Mark Donnelly and Richard Mills (eds), Mad Dogs and Englishness: Popular Music and English Identities, New York: Bloomsbury, forthcoming 2017. 7 Jonathan Gorry, Nottingham Trent University Paul Weller’s Divine Violence in The Jam Years: A Politics of Authenticity 1972‐82 Draft abstract Walter Benjamin taught that speaking truth of a life of art requires sensitive commentators to reject historicism and a‐historicism alike as an inescapable precondition of assessment. In other words, justice demands we acknowledge that the way artwork is experienced, interpreted and criticized changes throughout time. We also have learnt from feminism that the personal is always political. The very personal act of creating and performing music – like cultural activity in general – may purport to be purely aesthetic, but addressing an artist’s legacy must inevitably imply a tackling of his/her political thinking space. Here the authority of music as art or culture becomes less aesthetic position and much more a substantive political performance. But where can its truth‐content be found? Where does faithfulness to the essence of a particular life’s work really lie? In our case, where or what is the beating heart of Paul Weller? A stable vantage point from which to answer these questions may come from approaching Weller’s work philosophically and within a specific cultural and historical constellation yet without trivializing its political and social implications. This paper adopts as a starting point The Jam years ‐ the beginning ‐ as a move to reassess the political ideas and politics of Paul Weller’s oeuvre. Drawing on the group of left‐wing German thinkers known as the Frankfurt School, in particular Walter Benjamin, this paper focuses critical attention on the philosophical, political and sociological aspects of The Jam’s cultural contribution. Such reassessment involves a consideration of the way Weller’s early career synthesised aesthetic and political features, music, meaning and value. Paul Weller has always been a musician and songwriter familiar with the socio‐political reality of his own time and one heavily influenced by it. I am interested in how his music was shaped by the political outlooks of the 1970s and early 1980s and how it influenced/effected personal positions. A key feature of this move is to re‐read Weller’s early lyrics (including some interesting collaborations with his Father) to see how he represented and responded to the socio‐economic context of his day. This involves a deconstruction of both explicitly political musical texts (e.g. ‘Eton Rifles’, ‘Going Underground’, ‘Little Boy Soldiers’ etc.) and those that were more nuanced and carried ‘sociological’ or perhaps anthropological message (e.g. ‘Town Called Malice’, ‘Just Who is the 5 O’clock Hero?’, ‘The Planner’s Dream Goes Wrong’, ‘Private Hell’ etc.). There seems to be at least two key concepts that demand particular assessment in this paper: Paul Weller’s embodiment of authenticity and his construction of identity. A striking feature of The Jam was their personae of authenticity or rather how they were considered to be authentic (‘Mods’) by their fans. Jon Savage argued that punk was “a noisy revolt against the slow death and suffocation that is the emotional experience of living in England” (an interesting observation and one borne out by some of Weller’s lyrics) but Weller himself was more attuned to Pete Meaden’s “clean living under difficult circumstances” aphorism. This section thus unpacks The Jam through the concept of ‘rock authenticity’ developed by authors such as Philip Auslander and Simon Firth and relates it to Judith Butler’s notions of ‘performativity’. My concern is to analyze how The Jam achieved and maintained their style and status through sound and vision. A second aspect of this paper is to 8 consider how The Jam articulated a particular vision of authenticity through a form of Englishness that was predominantly white, working‐class and male. Songs like ‘Eton Rifles’, ‘Down in the Tube Station’ and ‘Mr. Clean’ conjure particular images of class and English identity at odds with the prevailing Conservative Governments. Weller arguably helped create a cultural space for left‐ populist forms of Englishness (Britishness?) that can be seen as socially realist and candid expressions of the solidarities of locality (especially within urban geographies). Yet there is an unexplored tension in this identity’s ambivalence to race in the face of divisions created in multi‐ racial Britain by Thatcherite politics that demands attention. The contraction of an analysis of the overlapping concepts of identity and rock authenticity throws the discussion in this paper onto Walter Benjamin’s ideas. Benjamin produced a critique of a ‘violence’ that is non‐coercive, bloodless but nonetheless lethal. For his more ‘highbrow’ colleagues in the Frankfurt School (especially Adorno), popular or low culture of the type discussed in this symposium ‘profaned’ society and closed the space for a genuinely revolutionary or authentic politics. However for Benjamin there existed the potentiality for a ‘sacred’ or ‘divine violence’ that could destroy boundaries (class, race, identity etc.) through means of a pure political action. This hope for praxis suggests a performativity and a form of gesturality. The working contention is that Weller’s ‘personal’ performance can usefully be viewed as an authentic ‘politics’ or, to use Benjamin, a possible example of ‘divine violence’. Biography Jonathan Gorry is Principal Lecturer and Acting Head of Department for Politics and International Relations at Nottingham Trent University. He is particularly interested in questions of belief and unbelief, political economy and (popular) music as a vehicle for social change. He was educated at Staffordshire and Warwick Universities and has taught at Staffordshire, Warwick, Northampton and Trent. 9 Keith Hussain, University of Sunderland Butlins’ Suits and Away From The Numbers: the continuing significance of The Jam Nearly 40 years after the first chart appearance of The Jam, the band and its lead singer Paul Weller, which were once so bound‐up with one another as to become almost indivisible, still generate huge public interest and continue to exist as complex, over determined signifiers within British popular culture; after publically pronouncing socialist ideas in their interviews and songs, Weller ‘confessed’ to voting for Margaret Thatcher during the May 1979 general election (Daily Telegraph, 5th May 2010). Weller had previously criticised Labour PM James Callaghan whom he termed ‘Uncle Jimmy’ and bemoaned the loss of ‘the Great Empire’ in Time for Truth (1977), sentiments which earned the band a Conservative tag as well as inviting criticism from other punk bands such as The Clash. Such ambiguities, which have consistently followed the band’s career from the outset, certainly seem to account for their enduring popularity and significance with British popular culture. What follows is an attempt to demonstrate that it was Weller and the band’s skilful negotiation of contradictions inherent within popular culture in general and their star image (Dyer, 1982) in particular ‐ on a number of different levels ‐ that account for their continuing importance as a cultural phenomenon. Even in his latest incarnation as a solo artist, Weller can certainly be said to have earned his epithet as ‘The Modfather’ of British pop music, receiving tribute from members of Blur and Oasis who acknowledged their debts to Weller as a main progenitor of the Brit‐Pop movement of the early 1990s to eventually become a perennial favourite at the Glastonbury Festival and The Brit Awards where he continues to freely draw on a range of musical genres. In turn, it will examine how the key intertextual aspects that underpin the band’s star image such as lyrical content, public statements, musical styles and relationship to other surrounding media point toward a complex, dialectic relationship between the creative economy of The Jam and punk subculture as a whole that feeds into their contemporary location as popular cultural icons. This relationship is most clearly evident in the acrimonious/humorous ‘dialogue’ between Weller and Joe Strummer of The Clash on each of their first albums, as the latter publicly mocked the group’s retro‐ mod image in their release White Man in Hammersmith Palace (1977) as having ‘Butlins’ suits’ to which the former responded by defending their politics and image as born out of necessity in Sounds From the Street (1977): I know I come from Woking And you say I'm a fraud But my heart's in the city Where it belongs [...] We're never gonna change a thing And the situation's rapidly decreasing But what can I do? I'm trying to be true That’s more than you At least I'm doing something. 10 Indeed, it will go on to argue that it was these contradictions of emerging from outside of a London punk scene defined by The Clash and The Damned from the Surrey backwater of Woking that provided a relatively uninhibited cultural space in which to musically and intellectually develop their image to shore up their position as a central political influence on the late 1970s ‘mod‐revival’ and soul‐funk subcultures: Heatwave and Girl on the Phone respectively draw on nostalgic American and British musical heritages – highlighting a bold stance which set the parameters for the release of their magus opus, the concept album Setting Sons (1979). Such a position allowed the group to develop into a major chart force and as central agents of the GLC‐based ‘urban‐left’ (Curran, Gaber and Petley 2005) and, as such, leading figures within the radical Red Wedge group alongside Jimmy Somerville and Billy Bragg to articulate a new progressive politics that carried popular currency from the 1980s. Unlike other punk acts, this development of a progressive politics within their creative economy ‐ carried on through the modernist jazz‐funk of The Style Council ‐ can thus be seen as having resonated with British youth and a nascent multiculturalism to create space for new class and ethnic based identities during a period of seismic political change which was defined by breakdown of the post‐war consensus, huge social unrest and the onset of the Thatcherite neoliberal project. Cormick, N ‘Paul Weller: Some of my best friends are Tories’ in Daily Telegraph, 5th May2010. Dyer, R (1982) Stars, London: BFI Publishing. Curran, J. Gaber, I and Petley, J. (2005) Culture Wars: The Media and the British Left, London: Edinburgh University Press. 11 Peter Hughes Jachimiak, University of South Wales ‘Mod Fathering’ – Paul Weller, Fatherhood, and Father Figures’ When Paul Weller was still in his mid‐twenties, he admitted to the tabloid press that he was contemplating having ‘the snip’: “I want a vasectomy because I am sure I never want any kids and I haven’t got any paternal instincts at all”, as “[t]he kind of person I am and what I do is far too selfish to devote the amount of time to kids” (cited in Reed, 1996, p.186). Following a doctor’s refusal to carry out such an operation on the grounds that Weller was too young, the passing of time has proved that the fathering of children is very much in alignment with his critics’ perception of him as a womanising celebrity. According to Beynon (2002), the terms ‘celebrity dads’ and ‘celebrity lads’ – both applicable to Weller – are characteristic forms of masculinity to be found amid ‘celebrity culture’ in “our image and media‐saturated society, dominated by style‐setting, iconized individuals” (p.159). In interview with The Big Issue, entitled ‘Who’s the Daddy’, it was made explicit that – come his 54th year – the musician had fathered seven children by four women. Whilst some may criticise Weller as a feckless father – “[a] term used by the political right to identify men who it is claimed take no social or economic responsibility for their children” (Haywood and Mac an Ghaill, 2003, p.152) – others close to him, such as the music journalist and author, Paolo Hewitt, have defended his dedication to being a doting father: “Paul is in constant communication with his offspring, [and] spends as much time with them as possible” (2007, p.226). Fecklessness aside, the Big Issue article – published just before Father’s Day 2012 – announced that “Paul Weller, The Modfather, has today become an almost mythological, national father figure” (p.24). Thus, this paper not only critically examines the mediated representations of Paul Weller as a biological father to his children, but as a culturally defined ‘father figure’ within both the music industry and the Mod subculture. As a spokesman for his generation (that is, mainly men, aged in their late 40s to early 50s), Weller has often had the cultural/social status of being a substitute father foisted upon him. David Lines, for example, in his autobiographical The Modfather – My Life With Paul Weller (2006), makes the connection between the author’s own life‐long idolatry of the pop star as a coping mechanism of dealing with the immediate grieving, and the sense of loss thereafter, following the death of his own father (that is, when Lines was aged just eighteen). As such, this paper also explores the relationship between a musician and their audience in line with notions of fans’ ageing and their year‐on‐year projection of self upon the identity of others more public. Finally, this paper considers Paul Weller’s relationship with his own father, John Weller. Passing away in 2009 at the age of 77, and having managed his son through three distinct phases of his musical career that spanned four decades (from the early days of The Jam in the 1970s, throughout the 1980s with the The Style Council, and, finally, into the ‘solo’ years of the 1990s and 2000s), his resolute adherence to working‐class values meant that not only was John Weller a unique (and quite possibly flawed) music‐business manager, but that he was also a steadfast father. As Dennis Munday (who worked for Polydor, to which both The Jam and The Style Council were signed), has this to say about John Weller: “I’ve read many comments on John’s management style, mostly negative. Certainly when I started working with him, he didn’t know his way around a major record company, and his knowledge of marketing and recording was zilch. Coming from a similar background, I understood the way he went 12 about his wheeling and dealing, and his attitude towards cash … By doing this, he was no different from any other (working class) father – you look after your own. What can be said categorically is that he has been the driving force behind Paul’s career” (2006, p.318). Overall, then, this paper provides a wide‐ranging overview of Paul Weller, ‘the Modfather’, as a father (biologically speaking), a father figure (in societal/cultural terms), and as a ‘spokesman for a generation’: working‐class males who approach rapidly – or have passed already – that half‐century in life. Works cited: John Beynon (2002) Masculinities and Culture, Open University Press, Buckingham. Chris Haywood and Máirtín Mac an Ghaill (2003) Men and Masculinities – Theory, Research, and Social Practice, Open University Press, Buckingham. Paolo Hewitt (2007) Paul Weller – The Changing Man, Bantam Press, London. David Lines (2006) The Modfather – My Life With Paul Weller, William Heinemann, London. Dennis Munday (2006) Shout to the Top – The Jam and Paul Weller, Omnibus Press, London. Sylvia Patterson (June 11th – 17th, 2012) ‘Who’s the Daddy?’ in The Big Issue, No. 821, BGP, London, pp.22 – 25. John Reed (1996) Paul Weller – My Ever Changing Moods, Omnibus Press, London. 13 Arthur Lizie, Bridgewater State University You Mean the Robocop Guy?: Paul Weller and the United States Problem As I passed the turnstiles at the now defunct JFK Stadium in Philadelphia slightly before 7:00 A.M. on July 13, 1985, I heard the familiar strains of “The Big Boss Groove.” I ran into the seating area and was treated to Paul, Mick and the gang on big screen live from London and I dared to imagine that my dreams would finally come true: Paul Weller’s genius would become blatantly obvious to all of America as Style Council got some MTV exposure ‐ he’d finally break big in the United States! Of course I was only 17 at the time and my prognostication skills were no more trustworthy than my hormones or driving skills. Thirty years later I’m still waiting for Weller’s big break in the States (at least beyond his NPR “Tiny Desk” appearance that just showed up on my Facebook feed as I write this). This paper takes a look at Paul’s career in and relationship with the United States through an analysis of press coverage he has received as a member of The Jam, Style Council and as a solo artist. While not a perfect lens to understand what Weller means in the US, a closer look at coverage in Rolling Stone, the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, the Boston Globe, and smaller periodicals will give an idea of how Weller was produced as a commodity that never sold well to the US consumer: How was he marketed and publicized? Into what genre(s) has he been constructed and with what groups does he share musical affinities? How were both his English success and American failure explained to American audiences? Why did bands within his “genre” succeed while he failed? Perhaps to put it more bluntly: Why Paul Weller will never be inducted into America’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? Biography TBC 14 Paul Long, Birmingham City University Cool, Clean and Hard: Theorising Paul Weller. ‘What often passed the post‐punk brigade by was Weller's musical subtlety: the allusions to Motown and Stax, the willingness to experiment. That really came to the fore when he started the Style Council, which disgruntled fans wrote off as soulboys. Nor did they welcome the later house‐music direction. But not for nothing has Weller referred to himself as The Changingman – a restlessness and impatience that makes him a much more compelling artist. Nice line in knitwear, too.’ Guardian Leader, Friday 27 August 2010 Paul Weller is a curious and contradictory fixture in the wider field of popular music, an index of longevity and conservatism as well as aspects of experimentation and that favourite of music journalists: ‘reinvention’. He is a prime site about which discourses of popular music revolve and are constructed as well as indicative of something I’ve lately been labelling the ‘end’ of popular music. Weller emerged from the moment of punk, albeit marked for his recidivist tendencies. He is a small town surrealist and his music can be, by turn, earnest and energetic but sometimes leaden and lacking in the lightness of touch of the influences he has sought to emulate. He might be described as an ‘organic’ intellectual, but is often vehemently anti‐intellectual in his approach to music and life. The way in which he has been written about by has often been marked by a disdain for his ordinariness and proletarian (sometimes lumpen) approach to his art. Surprisingly, Weller and his work has been the subject of relatively little academic scrutiny. In attending to his work, the purpose of this framing paper is to consider his longevity, musical path, identity and contexts of reception as ways of raising questions about the history, historiography, direction, range and operations of popular music culture and its scholarly study. 15 Paul Long and Jez Collins, Birmingham City University ‘I'm just not interested in the past. I want to keep moving forward, learning new things’. Fan communities and music memories online. For almost forty years Paul Weller has been a commercially successful and critically acclaimed musician. Despite continually re‐inventing himself through his music, Weller is indelibly anchored to his past in critical and fan discourse, particularly with reference to his period as leader of The Jam (1974‐1982). This was most recently evidenced in About the Young Idea, an exhibition at Somerset House, co‐curated by his sister Nicky. However, the weight of Weller’s past is most notably displayed in the activities of fans in a variety of communities that are part of a wider set of practices to emerge in the digital world. Online sites devoted to music and memory are proliferating across social media, in bespoke blogs, web pages, forums and Facebook groups that collectively seek out, capture, preserve and make accessible the material objects and memories of popular music in what Collins has termed ‘Doing‐it‐Together (DiT)’ practices (2015). For instance, on Facebook alone, Weller has an official page for The Jam and one for his continuing work. These sit alongside fan sites such as The Jam: the Early Years or The Jam Society, a group for his subsequent outing in The Style Council as well as pages that take an overview of his career such as Weller World, Paul Weller: A British Institution or The Changingman Through The Years Paul Weller. Each ‘unauthorised’ site announces that it deals in memory in order to celebrate Weller’s musical incarnations, building communities of interest that can be several thousand strong. In each case, members post links to YouTube videos, Soundcloud files, Spotify playlists, between them including official and ‘unofficial’ recordings. Not surprisingly such activities position such sites at the borders of legality and, where they make use of file‐sharing sites they incur the wrath of the owners of the intellectual property that they share. Fans also upload digital scans of signed record sleeves, concert tickets, personal photographs as well as varieties of ‘official’ images from record companies, the music press and other sources. Reciprocity is a structuring feature of community interactions here as many individuals respond to the question ‘Do you remember?’. Others post invitations and comments, links or scanned artefacts with further links, materials and questions: ‘Do you remember?’ Above all, such communities are built on the sharing of individual recollections and demonstrations of encounters with specific pieces of music, performances, videos and the place of such things in relation to their own lives, linked to both private and public events: [on The Jam’s last concert] ‘An emotional night. Cried like a baby in brighton afterwards’ [sic]. This paper seeks to explore the nature of such practices. We raise questions about the nature of the music archive, of history and heritage. We explore how, alongside the collection and sharing of music and of associated artifacts, the archive is manifest in the nature of the collective memory forged in online interactions which involves an ongoing negotiating and working through of the significance of venues, individuals, bands and moments the personal and shared pasts – here, anchored around a specific figure. Ultimately, we focus on what such practices have to tell us about 16 Weller, his fans and the relation of past and present for a musician who seeks to continue to produce new music which, in turn, produces new meanings. Paul Long and Jez Collins are members of the Birmingham Centre for Media and Cultural Research, BCU. They are the co‐authors of ‘Mapping the Soundscapes of Popular Music Heritage’ (2012) in Les Roberts (ed.), Mapping Cultures, Palgrave, ‘Online Archival Practice and Virtual Sites of Musical Memory’ (2015) in Les Roberts, Marion Leonard, Sara Cohen & Robert Knifton (eds), Sites of Popular Music Heritage, Routledge and “my god i loved this tune:)RESPECT 4 POSTING!!!!” Affective memories of music in online heritage practice.’(forthcoming) in Johannes Brusila, Bruce Johnson, John Richardson (eds.) Music, Memory and Space. Intellect. Collins is the founder and curator of The Birmingham Popular Music Archive (birminghammusicarchive.com). 17 Peacock Suits In the Crowd Paul Martin ‘For people who have been affected by rock’n’roll in the 50s or pop music in the 60s, those things don’t go away; they stay with you. You don’t get to a certain age and think: “I can’t wear this,” you just have to be careful with how you dress. But not so careful that you end up wearing sensible shoes’ (1) The iconic black and white Gibson ‘Jam’ shoes have been staple footwear for three decades, their ubiquity now is such that even high street shops like Debenhams stock them. In 2011, Paul Weller initiated two collections his own men’s fashion line for Liam Gallagher’s Pretty Green brand, itself named after a Jam song. Weller’s own clothing brand Real Stars Are Rare launched in 2014 focuses, William Morris‐like, on bespoke tailoring of small runs of quality clothing that eschew mass production. This offers men the opportunity to wear what Weller wears. So in some small way, one could play dress up and thus perpetuate or appropriate by proxy the visual essence of Weller. The popularity of Paul Weller in the public sphere speaks as much to the fluidity of ‘mod’ since its revival at the end of the 1970s as it does to Weller himself. From the 1960s identikit copyists of the initial revival, through to contemporary modernism, the historical musical taste has enlarged from Motown, blue label era Stax records, The Who and The Action, to obscure French library music, acid Jazz and the funkier pop grooves and lounge music of the later 1960s to early 1970s, even including some early moog music. This fluidity in what modernism is, has therefore been able to accommodate Weller’s own musical progression through his solo career whilst still validating everything he did before. Hence when as in both his Sonik Kicks and Saturn’s Patterns albums Weller employs electronics, it still sounds ‘in tune’ with modernism as it is regarded now, even if opinions on it vary. In this respect, Weller is able to take both his long‐time own‐aged fan base with him whilst still accruing new fans from younger generations for whom nostalgia or an association by shared lived time is not a motive. His sophistication and adherence to a decade, the 1960s, that seems perpetually hip, negates any need to compete with rising younger artists, but rather he often works with them. This gives him currency and agency outside of modernism both as an elder musical statesman and as a contemporary musician and song writer. This paper will explore the symbiosis and reification of Weller in the wider public domain and the mutability of the sub‐culture he is based in. 1.Paul Weller in Priya Elan ‘Paul Weller's style counsel: 'Clothes are an important part of our culture' Guardian 09/10/2014 Biography Paul Martin is a freelance academic and writer. He is an associate distance learning tutor with the School of Museum Studies at Leicester University and co‐taught the MA in Public History at Ruskin College, Oxford for fifteen years. His interests are in popular music as public history and the material culture of popular music. He has written on this for music magazines such as Bucketful of Brains and Shindig! and journals such as Hard Times and Public History Review. He is co‐ordinating editor of a 18 new ad hoc eZine Write Hear which aims to turn readers into writers (suggested contributions always welcome). In 1979 he was an extra in Quadrophenia! Publications include Popular Collecting and the Everyday Self (Continuum, 1999; 2001); The Trade Union Badge ‐ Material Culture In Action, (Aldershot, Ashgate Press 2002); ed. with Hilda Kean and Sally J Morgan, Public History Now in Britain, (London, Francis Boutle, 2000); ed. with Susan Pearce, The Collector’s Voice: Volume IV ‐ The Contemporary Voice, (Aldershot, Ashgate Press 2002); ed. with Hilda Kean, The Public History Reader, (London, Routledge, 2013). 19 Dr. Paul Spicer – Hiroshima Jogakuin University ‘And What You Give is What You Get’ Discourses of the Spiritual and Religious in the Lyrics of Paul Weller Whether political sniping or prophecies of social apathy and hopelessness, Paul Weller has continually offered us shrewd observations and an empathetic take on British life. His lyrics have had a profound effect on his audience, echoing the stresses and strains of the present, and their hopes and dreams for the future. This paper will explore Paul Weller through his lyrics, drawing primarily on late‐period Jam and his earlier solo work, to establish a relationship between the artist and religion. There are a great number of Weller’s songs which contain rich spiritual meanings. Writing primarily from an omnist perspective, he is able to transcend the constraints of monotheism, combining various strands of doctrine which allows a sense of spiritual freedom. This an area of his work which has remained constant from the late 1970s, but has thus far been largely unacknowledged. Faith has been a crucial component of Weller’s song‐writing and is something that he has relied on heavily at various stages of his life and career. It is generally acknowledged that Weller is a skilful social observer, very much in the mould of influences such as Ray Davies and John Lennon. He has commentated on the volatility of 70s life in songs such as Bricks and Mortar (1977), Tube Station (1978), Saturday’s Kids (1979) and Man in the Corner Shop (1980); offered faint hope in the lyrics of When You’re Young (1979) and The Gift (1982); and warned against negativity and apathy in; ‘A’ Bomb (1978), Scrape Away (1980), and Running on the Spot (1982). With the Style Council, Weller changed direction quite radically, as indirect wordplay and metaphor was replaced with unmistakeable vitriol aimed at government policy and voter apathy. The Council era was a call to arms for all with who Weller identified during his Jam days, those suffering oppression under Thatcher and her war against the working classes. Weller’s early solo years saw a re‐invention, not just musically but also in terms of his lyrical style. This period witnessed a change of perspective, from social observer to introspective commentator. This transformation was chronicled through songs such as Into Tomorrow (1991), The Weaver (1993), and Has My Fire Really Gone Out? (1993), self‐critical observations which question morals, drive, vision and passion. The aforementioned examples are typical of the lyrical content on the first three solo albums; Paul Weller (1992), Wild Wood (1993) and Stanley Road (1995). These records contain some of Weller’s finest words, as he began to explore issues to which he had given little credence in the past. This is Weller at his most open, at his soul‐searching best. Primarily these lyrics were deeply spiritual confessions which drew on religious imagery and metaphor, but were combined with self‐doubt and questions of being. These recurring lyrical motifs became an integral component of his song‐ writing and can clearly be heard in songs such as The Strange Museum (1992), Heavy Soul (1997), and of course more directly (Can You Heal Us), Holy Man (1993) and Wings of Speed (1995). Using contemporary sources from publications such as the NME, Melody Maker and Sounds, broadcast interview material, as well as a range of religious publications and journals, this paper will identify the relationship between Weller’s work and the incorporeal by using a number of key 20 themes and songs to establish a connection between the artist and his spirituality. Deep textual analysis of Start! (1980) and Heavy Soul (1996), will expose a profound literary relationship to Buddhist and Christian doctrine respectively. It is the overall intention of this paper to establish how much Weller (un)consciously draws upon various aspects of religious thought and spirituality, to enhance the lyrical meaning within his work
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